


Like Fire, we burn

by Daughter_of_Scotland



Series: Dragon Age Universe [3]
Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: F/M, Heartbreak, Mage Hawke - Freeform, Pain, Retelling, Suffering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-28
Updated: 2016-09-28
Packaged: 2018-08-18 09:31:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8157398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daughter_of_Scotland/pseuds/Daughter_of_Scotland
Summary: Hawke has a headache, the world seems against her, and Anders, her brightest light, seems to throw the biggest shadow.





	

**Author's Note:**

> After my first Dragon Age fic - this comes after, and references a former relationship between Female!Warden and Anders, which ended badly - I really wanted to give Anders another chance at love.

It was supposed to be easy. Find Varric’s contact, get the maps, go down the Deep Roads - easy money. Of course it didn’t work out that way.

 

“A  _ Grey Warden _ ?” Hawke asked incredulously. “In Kirkwall?” 

 

Varric shrugged. “Apparently he wasn’t a fan of the lifestyle.”

 

“Lifestyle,” Hawke muttered, looking over her shoulder at the Mage who was healing a young boy with a cough. “I thought the job wasn’t one you can just leave.”

 

“It’s not,” Varric agreed. “But you should ask him why he’s here if you’re curious.”

 

Hawke sighed. “We need those maps,” she said. “That’s all.”

 

“Well,” Carver said with a shrug. “We could also use a Healer. Seeing as that’s not your speciality, sister.”

 

She threw him a dirty look which he ignored. But she had to admit that he was right. A Healer would be a great help in the Deep Roads.

 

“I hate this,” she muttered and turned back to the Mage who was looking at her without blinking.

 

“Have you decided to accept my offer?” he asked as she reached him. His voice was calm and quiet.

 

Hawke nodded and held out her hand. “I’m Lilith Hawke,” she introduced herself. “We’re on a mission to the Deep Roads and would like you to join us.”

 

He shook her hand and frowned. “The Deep Roads?” he asked and for a second there was a far-away look in his eyes. “Have you ever been down there?”

 

She blinked and took her hand back. “Uh. No. Have you?”

 

“Yes,” he said with a nod. “Can’t say I’m a fan.” 

 

Hawke frowned. “Does that mean you’re not coming with us?” 

 

He looked around. “All these people,” he murmured. “They need so much more than I can give them.” His eyes met Hawke’s again. “I’ll come with you,” he said. “In exchange for a small favor.”

 

And that’s how Hawke found herself in the Chantry. At night. Fighting Templars for a possessed Mage. This day just got better and better.

 

***

 

“This was fun.”

 

Hawke stared at the Mage who was cleaning blood off his robes.

 

“Fun,” she repeated deadpan. “Killing Templars is  _ fun _ to you?” 

 

“Well,” he amended. “Not the killing part, exactly. But fighting? I didn’t know how much I missed this.”

 

“I can imagine that just being a Healer isn’t as exciting,” Hawke agreed, switching her staff from one hand to the other. “But if you like fighting so much, why did you leave the Wardens?”

 

He froze. Just for a second, but she saw it.

 

“A difference in opinion,” he answered her after a second too long, and way too nonchalant. “The Commander and I had different… Views on our status.”

 

Hawke lifted an eyebrow but didn’t pry. She had heard about the Hero of Ferelden, the Commander of the Grey Wardens, of course. Seemed like Anders knew her better than most.

 

“Anyway,” the Mage said and smiled brightly at her. It didn’t reach his eyes. “Shall we go? I’m for a drink.”

 

“Thank the Maker!” Varric exclaimed from the back of the group and Hawke laughed before following the Dwarf to the tavern. She would talk to Anders again later.

 

***

 

Hawke sat down in front of the fire and sighed. “I just wanted a simple expedition to the Deep Roads,” she lamented, taking a sip from her water skin. “And now I’m climbing a mountain. That’s the complete other direction!”

 

Her companions laughed, Merrill’s like a bell and Isabela’s more of a cackle. Anders sounded like he tried to suppress his own laugh and failed.

 

“Don’t worry,” the Mage said, taking a bite from his bread. “You’ll reach the Deep Roads soon enough. And you’ll hate them.”

 

“What makes you so sure of that?” she asked. “Maybe I like being underground.”

 

He shook his head, a wistful smile on his face. “ _ She  _ hates them. Too damp, too dark, not enough space to fight. You’re much like her, you’ll agree with her.”

 

“With whom?” Hawke asked, her voice softer than before. 

 

He blinked and shook himself, as if he had forgotten where he was. “No one,” he waved her off. “I was just… Lost in thought.”

 

She let it go and turned to Isabela, to talk to her about her ship instead. But her eyes strayed to Anders for the rest of the night. He stayed silent until the morning.

 

***

 

“Why didn’t you ever learn Healing magic?” Anders asked her while fixing her sprained ankle.

 

Hawke did her best not to shudder at the way his hands circled her foot and made warmth spread through her. “Didn’t think I needed it,” she admitted freely. “Lothering was peaceful before…” She broke off.

 

He nodded. “Before,” he agreed. “I know.”

 

He moved on to the cut above her eye. She had to concentrate on her breathing as she stared at his chest right in front of her. She hated sitting. Usually she was as tall as he was.

 

“What made you choose Healing?” she turned the question around.

 

He was silent for a moment. “I only recently developed a skill for it,” he finally said. “My… Friend reminded me that it would be useful to have.”

 

“Was that friend the Hero of Ferelden?” Hawke asked without thinking.

 

He took his hands back, the warmth vanishing, and the pain with it. “Will that be all, Hawke?”

 

She stared at the way he avoided her eyes and his sudden formality. “Yes,” she said, nothing else to say. “That’s all. Thank you, Anders.”

 

He nodded and moved to help Isabela instead, ignoring Fenris who had declined his help already. Hawke was left to stare after him.

 

***

 

Fenris didn’t like helping the Mages, but Hawke was glad he was there. He was a terrific fighter. So was Anders, but he was fuelled by the demon - ghost - inside of him, and thus always got more vicious when they had to fight Templars. 

 

“You have no problems with Blood Magic?” she asked Anders after the fight.

 

He shrugged. “I have a problem with using it against innocent people,” he pointed out. “But I don’t see the merit in turning people into mindless shells.” He looked pointedly at her staff. “I think you would agree with me there, Hawke.”

 

She shrugged. “I’m still not sure on the issue,” she said freely. “But thankfully, it’s not for me to decide.”

 

His face shadowed. “No. It’s not, I guess.”

 

He left her standing there, feeling frustrated. “I don’t know what he wants from me,” she muttered.

 

“I think that’s obvious, actually,” Varric said from her other side and Isabela nodded, making a rude hand gesture.

 

Hawke’s face burst into flames. “Don’t be ridiculous,” she snapped at them and stalked away, doing her best to ignore their laughter behind her. 

 

_ He’s clearly hung up on someone _ , she told herself.  _ Probably the Hero of Ferelden herself. He can’t think of me that way. They’re just teasing me. _

 

For some reason, sleep didn’t come easy that night.

 

***

 

Hawke didn’t have a good feeling about this. After her mother left, she doubted she had made the right decision in taking Carver into the Deep Roads with her.

 

“Maybe you should have stayed,” she said to him on their way down.

 

He shot her a nasty look. “So you can earn all the glory for yourself?” he asked. “Sure, sister, let me get right on that.”

 

Without waiting for another word from her he moved on, walking next to Varric instead. She let out a frustrated breath.

 

“You don’t get along?”

 

She looked at Anders and shook her head. “Never have,” she admitted. “Bethany - his twin - and I always had more in common.” She looked at her staff. “She died during our escape.”

 

He put a hand on her shoulder and squeezed. “I’m sorry for your loss,” he said earnestly and she smiled at him.

 

“Thank you. I appreciate it.”

 

Further talk was cut short as they were attacked by giant spiders.

 

“You were right,” Hawke called to Anders as she fired at one of the beasts. “I do hate the Deep Roads.”

 

His laughter, followed by the dying screams of monsters, was like music to her ears.

 

***

 

Carver was dying. 

 

Hawke felt like the world was ending. Her little brother… They didn’t get along, but he couldn’t be  _ dying _ ! Not on a mission she had taken him on, not because of  _ Darkspawn.  _

 

“Please,” she whispered furiously, pressing  her coat on his wound. She looked up, searching for Anders. “Do something!”

 

He looked on helplessly for a second, but then bent over Carver, chanting something. 

 

“Well?” Hawke asked anxiously. 

 

“He will live,” Anders said grimly. “But he’s… Tainted.”

 

She blanched. “Tainted? Like… What will happen to him?”

 

Anders met her eyes. “He will die,” he said plainly. “But there’s a way to prolong his life.”

 

“Anything,” Hawke pressed. “Anders, he’s my  _ brother _ . Whatever it takes, I will do it.”

 

“It’s not you who needs to do something,” he told her. “He can become a Grey Warden. He will still die eventually, but we all do.”

 

She stared at him and then at Carver who was waking up slowly. “How… How do we get him to them?”

 

Anders sighed. “Let’s get out of here,” he advised. “We did what we came for. I will… Try to reach someone to get him.”

 

And that was it. Carver’s fate was sealed. 

 

_ Andraste help me, Mother will never forgive me _ , Hawke thought. But at least her brother was alive. That had to be enough.

 

***

 

Three years went by. Her mother never forgave her for sending Carver away, but at least they knew he was alive. And finally out of her shadow, so he could fight for his own name, he wrote her. She tried not to be too hurt by this.

 

During these three years, Hawke bought back her family’s estate, moving into it with her mother. Her uncle, she left in the slums. Her mother didn’t argue about it.

 

Fenris continued to wait for his former master, Isabela looking for her reliquie, Merrill learned to navigate Kirkwall, Varric wrote more stories, Aveline went up in rank at the Keep, and Anders… Anders went back to be a healer for the refugees.

 

Hawke visited him a lot at first, but he got busier, and so did she, so after a while she just… Stopped. Varric called her an idiot, but she just bought him a beer to shut him up. It worked.

  
  


One day, Aveline asked for her and, in whispers, informed her that the Qunari were getting more troublesome, that people were vanishing, and that the fights between Mages and the Templars were heating up again.

 

Hawke wanted to beat her head against the wall. “Can’t they just try to finish one thing first, before the second one becomes a problem?” she complained.

 

Aveline snorted. “Oh, please. You love this. You were bored out of your mind the last few years.”

 

Hawke opened her mouth to protest, but then closed it again. Aveline was not wrong. “Well,” she said anyway, “I can’t be everywhere at once.”

 

“No,” Aveline agreed, “you can’t. But you have friends who can help you.”

 

Hawke frowned. “Varric would love to fight again, Merrill, too. Isabela, maybe, if I can persuade her to give up her search right now.”

 

“And Fenris,” Aveline reminded her. 

 

Hawke shrugged. “He’s still brooding over his master, but I’ll speak to him.”

 

Aveline looked at her and crossed her arms over her breasts. “Anders.”

 

Hawke turned away. “No.”

 

“Why not?” Aveline cried. “He works well with you. He’s a healer! And I thought you were friends.”

 

Hawke shrugged, looking out of the window. “He’s busy.”

 

“Oh, Maker’s  _ ass  _ he’s busy,” Aveline snorted. “You’re just scared you still have feelings for him.”

 

Hawke whirled around, her mouth open, her eyes wide. “I do  _ not _ have feelings for Anders!”

 

Aveline smirked. “Sure you don’t. Then there’s no problem in asking him for help.”

 

Hawke realized she was trapped. With a frustrated sigh she grabbed her things and moved to the door. “I hate you so much sometimes,” she grumbled.

 

“No, you don’t,” Aveline chuckled and saw her out.

 

Outside, Hawke groaned.  _ This is going to go splendidly,  _ she thought. Maybe she should ask Fenris for help first.

 

***

 

“Well, this has been a colossal failure,” Hawke groaned as Fenris almost carried her towards Anders’ clinic. 

 

She had helped Fenris with his former master’s sister and in the process had almost gotten killed. Merrill had been at her side, as had Isabela, but neither of them were Healers. Thus her ending up exactly where she hadn’t wanted to go.

 

“What happened?” Anders asked sharply as they staggered in. He rushed to their side immediately and helped Fenris carry Hawke to a cot, lying her down.

 

“Got in a fight,” Hawke grunted. “Bit more of a hassle than usual. Must be out of practice.”

 

Fenris rolled his eyes. “She jumped in front of Merrill and got hit pretty hard herself,” he explained brusquely. “Typical Hawke.”

 

“Indeed,” Anders said as he treated her wounds. “Typical Hawke stupidity.”

 

Hawke laughed wetly. “Yeah, well, someone has to carry on the tradition, now that Carver isn’t here anymore.”

 

It was funny to see Anders and Fenris agree on something, even if it was her reckless behaviour.

  
  


“If you knew you were going to be in a fight, why didn’t you ask me to come?” Anders asked later. Fenris had left for his home, but Anders had ordered her to stay the night.

 

“I thought you might not want to be taken away from your patients,” she asked, not looking at him. 

 

“Don’t lie to me!”

 

She flinched at his raised voice and then berated herself for it. She wasn’t scared of Anders! 

 

“Fine,” she snapped, turning to him. “I didn’t want to take you with me. Happy?”

 

He stared at her, hurt in his eyes. “Why not?” he asked.

 

Hawke opened her mouth and closed it again. She didn’t had a better answer than: “I don’t feel like myself when you are around.”

 

He blinked and then a slow smile spread over his face. “No? What do I make you feel?”

 

“Weak,” she muttered, watching as he moved closer, their faces barely apart. “Protected and protective at the same time. It… Scares me.”

 

Anders nodded slightly. “Yes. I know that feeling.”

 

The kiss was short, but closely followed by another. And another. At some point Hawke lost count and her last coherent thought was how glad she was that no other patients were staying the night.

 

***

 

“So this is the Fade?”

 

Hawke looked around curiously. She was a Mage, yes, but she’d never actually been in real contact with the Fade before.

 

Anders blinked at her. For a second his eyes glowed bright blue and Hawke had to look away. She hated seeing Justice in him.

 

“You… Are not afraid of it?” he asked slowly.

 

Hawke shrugged. “Should I be? We haven’t even been here for very long.”

 

He smiled, while Varric and Aveline looked clearly uncomfortable with their surroundings.

 

“Sometimes, you remind me a lot of her,” Anders muttered. “Other times I’m reminded of how different you really are.”

 

Before Hawke could ask him to clarify, they were attacked. 

  
  


“Who do I remind you of?” she asked later, when they were back and were sharing her bed. 

 

“Hm?” Anders asked, half asleep already. 

  
“In the Fade,” she clarified. “You said I reminded you of someone, but then again, at other times I didn’t.”

 

He was silent for a while, frozen, barely breathing. Then he turned around so that he could look her in the eye.

 

“The Hero of Ferelden,” he started slowly. “Lyna. My Commander. She and I were…” He stopped, searching for words, his brow furrowed. “She had my heart, but hers belonged to another,” he finally said. “I comforted her, but when he came back… Well. It got very hard to stay, eventually.”

 

Hawke didn’t know what to say. Burning hot jealousy ran through her, mixed with the urge to scream  _ Why wouldn’t you be enough for her, why didn’t she love you, how could she?  _ But she was sure that wouldn’t help Anders.

 

“And she didn’t like the Fade?” she asked instead, softly, not disturbing the moonlit room more than needed.

 

He smiled softly. “She hated it,” he corrected. “It gave her nightmares. I think there was nothing else she feared more.” He stroked Hawke’s cheek.

 

“She is my history, my past,” he whispered. “You’re my present, and, I hope, my future.”

 

The jealousy abated. Hawke returned his smile and rolled into his arms. 

 

Sleep didn’t come for a long time.

 

***

 

Hawke sat in front of the fire, drinking a glass of the wine she’d gotten from Fenris. She was thinking about the last few days, about the people she’d helped… And those she had to kill.

 

“This city is falling apart,” she muttered. “Not just because of the Qunari. The Mages and the Templars…” She trailed off, sipping her wine. No one was here to disturb her, but it helped to talk out loud.

 

“I don’t know what to do,” she said eventually and looked up, right at the family portrait over the fireplace. “Father… What am I supposed to do?”

 

***

 

Her mother was dead.

 

Hawke sat on the cold floor, covered in blood, her mother’s body in her arms. Vaguely she heard people - Anders, Fenris, Varric - call her name, but she didn’t care. Her mother was dead. 

 

“We need to go, dear heart,” Anders’ whispered voice finally reached her ear. “Let me carry her. We need to leave.”

 

She looked up at him, feeling broken, raw. “She’s dead,” she murmured and he grimaced.   
  


“I know, my love,” he said and she let him take the body. “I know.”

 

She didn’t remember the way back, or the next few days, arranging the funeral. Carver was there for only a day, staring at her with so much betrayal and hate in his eyes, she couldn’t bear to be in his presence at all.

 

Her friends never left her side. Hawke never felt so alone.

 

***

 

Throwing herself in the fight against the Qunari was the only logical choice. Fighting was the only thing that kept her sane in those days, kept the pain away.

Until the night, where she burrowed herself into Anders’ side, let him take care of her and keep the world away.

 

Isabela left, running away, and the betrayal was just another dull ache on her soul. Hawke wondered if they would all leave her eventually, if it’s just her nature to gain a family and then lose them one after the other. Maybe she was cursed. Maybe it was her blood.

 

The fights got more vicious and Hawke wondered why there was no one else who could do these things. But then again, if she didn’t, she wouldn’t have an excuse to drown her pain.

 

“Love, you need to calm down,” Anders urged her one night. “You barely sleep, or eat. You need to rest, or you won’t be able to fight as well.”

 

“What does it matter?” she muttered, turning away from him. “If I die in battle, it might just be the right thing to do.”

 

A beat of silence and then a kiss to her shoulder. “But I don’t want you to leave me,” he whispered against her skin and that broke through the fog in her mind. 

 

She turned back again, cupping his face. “I’m sorry,” she breathed against his lips. “I will try. I don’t want to leave you, either.”

 

He kissed her. “Nothing more can I ask for.”

 

She kissed him again and then she slept. And the pain didn't come.

 

***

 

“Champion of Kirkwall.”

 

Hawke shuddered. “Don’t say it like that,” she protested, making Varric, Merrill, and Isabela giggle. Isabela, who had come back. Whom she had fought - and won - for.

 

The Arishok was dead, the Qunari gone, and Hawke was now the Champion of Kirkwall.

 

“I heard they want to build a statue for you,” Fenris said with a smirk.

 

Hawke banged her head on the table and whined. Anders petted her back and handed her another glass of ale.

 

“At least then some people might actually get intimidated and stop asking you for help to find their cats or something,” he pointed out.

 

“I hate you all,” she mumbled and drank her ale, smiling at their laughter.

 

***

 

Another three years went by. 

 

This time, she didn’t stop seeing her friends.

 

Anders had moved in with her when her mother died, on the run from the Templars, but also protecting her from the too-empty halls and rooms, chasing away the chill that came every night.

Fenris had cleaned out more of his old master’s house, Varric and Isabela were inseparable, Aveline was  _ courting _ of all things, and Merrill was obsessed with a mirror.

 

Hearing of Fenris’ sister, finding and consequently losing her, seemed to Hawke like the spark that ignited the flame once more. Three years of relative peace, but now she was thrown right back into the midst of war.

 

“I wonder if it will ever end,” he mused one night, when they were all at her house, nursing their various wounds from fighting rogue Mages.

 

“Every story needs an end,” Varric said, hissing as Merrill bound his burned arm.

 

“Maybe,” she allowed. “But they mostly end in fire and death. I don’t want that to be my ending.”

 

“Maybe we’ll all go out with a great boom,” Isabela joked.

 

Strangely, no one was laughing.

 

Fenris’ eyes looked dead as he scraped his sister’s blood off his swords and Anders was staring into the flames in silence, shadows dancing in his eyes.

 

***

 

“I can’t.”

 

Hawke could see the moment Anders turned away from her. Anders, the man she loved, the man she had given her body and her heart. The man who now wanted her soul, too.

 

“Anders, I can’t,” she pleaded.

 

He nodded, his movements jerky, his eyes hollow. “I figured,” he said. “You’re the Champion of Kirkwall. You’re protected from the Templars. Why would you care about the lesser ones?”

 

“That’s not fair,” she whispered, trying to grasp his arm.

 

He turned away. “I understand, Hawke,” he said. He hadn’t called her that in years. “Do not concern yourself. I will take care of everything myself.”

 

She watched him leave and wondered if this is how he felt when the Hero of Ferelden broke his heart. Empty, carved out, and like teetering on a cliff. She wondered what he would do that would make her fall.

 

***

 

“Meredith is a menace,” Hawke complained to Aveline.

 

Her friend nodded grimly. “I know,” she agreed. “But what can we do? She is clearly overreacting, but the Blood Mages  _ are  _ a problem and Orsino is harboring them. Both of them are fuelling the fire.”

 

Hawke groaned. “I don’t know what to  _ do _ . Anders says, as a Mage, I should be against Meredith completely. But I see the practical side and just…” She chewed on her thumb. “Anders is planning something,” she confessed, her voice quiet. “He asked me for help to separate from Justice, but that was a lie. I don’t know what’s going to happen, Aveline.”

 

Her friend - the oldest she had, now, the last one from home - thought about this for a while.

 

“In the end,” she said slowly, “Anders will do what he thinks he must. And so will you.”

 

Hawke smiled, a brittle, bitter smile. “That is not comforting.”

 

“I know, my dear friend. I know. And I’m sorry.”

 

***

 

_ I’m sorry _ , Hawke thought dimly, staring at Anders in front of her.  _ I seem to hear that a lot, lately. _

 

“All this, my love, is bigger than me,” he tried to explain by explaining nothing at all. “And bigger than us. I have to do this, to be at peace.”

 

“Do what?” she asked desperately. “Anders, please, talk to me.”

 

“I can’t,” he evaded her once again, his eyes feverish and Justice-bright. “I would, oh, if I just could. But you wouldn’t… It’s all on me, do you understand? I am so grateful to you, for being by my side, even when you could have left. For giving me your heart.”

 

“But I didn’t get yours?” she asked, wondering if this was just a mirror image of a conversation he had had with the Hero of Ferelden, and if he even noticed it.

 

“Justice and Vengeance are too intertwined,” he said, ignoring her question, which was an answer in itself. “I tried to find another way, I did, but there isn’t one. Don’t worry, my love. It will all be clear soon, and everyone will know it was me who… Do not blame yourself.”

 

He left before she could ask him what she should blame herself  _ for _ . Then again, he wouldn’t have answered, anyway.

He left and took her heart with him.

 

***

 

They got Isabela’s boom, and the Chantry is gone. With it is the Divine and thousands of people. War is here and Anders brought it.

 

Meredith told her to deal with it and Hawke stared at him. The man she loves, the man she can’t forgive, the man who doomed them all.

 

“Why?” she whispered. “Why wouldn’t you just  _ talk  _ to me? Maybe I could have helped, maybe I would have  _ understood _ !”

 

“You would never,” he said. “You’re not one of us.”

 

And oh, that stung, and she shrank back a bit. “How… Anders. What did you think would happen after this?”

 

He shrugged. “I’m assuming you will kill me. And, to be honest, I welcome it. The pain - mine, Justice’s, the Mages - is way too great to bear now.”

 

Hawke looked at the others, some in shock, others angry. “I won’t kill you,” she said finally. “You will fight with me, and dear Maker, Anders, if you betray me in this fight, I will tear you limb from limb.”

 

He stared at her but she just continued speaking. “We will fight with the Templars, and you will do it, too, and try to atone for what you did.  _ You  _ turned the world against Mages now. We need to minimize the damage as much as we can, and for that, we need to fight with Meredith, not against her.” She glowered at him. “Damn you for making me do this.”

 

She turned and left, hearing her friends and former lover following her one by one.

 

***

 

In the end, they killed Orsino and Meredith both. One because he turned himself into a monster in desperation, the other because she’d been tainted for years and reveled in it.

 

Kirkwall was in shambles, the world hated them, and she was left with few options. But they were all alive, Isabela reminded her. Hawke wasn’t sure that was enough anymore.

 

“Come with me,” Anders said, taking her hand. “Leave this place with me.”

 

Hawke looked into his eyes, the bright blue gone now -  _ not forever _ , she thought,  _ but maybe long enough _ \- and turned to her friends.

 

“I’ll stay,” Varric grumbled. “Someone will want to hear this story.”

 

Fenris shook his head and glared hatred at Anders. “I will go. My master is gone and I’m free. I seek a place without Mages now.” He nodded to her and vanished like the shadow she had always seen around him.

 

“I’ll stay with Varric for a while,” Isabela said, and took Merrill’s hand. “And I’ll keep our little buttercup safe.”

 

Merrill took her hand back and shook her head.

 

_ When did she lose her smile?  _ Hawke wondered and then remembered the mirror. Curse it and his hold on the naive little elf.

 

“I will leave, too,” Merrill said softly. “This place is not for me anymore.” She hugged Hawke and Isabela, didn’t look at Anders, but kissed Varric on the cheek before she left.

 

Aveline shook her head. “I will stay. They need me. But you know how to reach me. Always.”

 

Hawke nodded and hugged her friend. “Always,” she repeated, and then it was over.

 

Her friends were gone and she was alone with her lover, the man who might turn into her murderer some day, if he lost himself to his Justice again.

 

“Let’s go,” he said and she took his hand and left Kirkwall behind.

 

_ And may the world burn down around us,  _ she thought as they stepped through the broken gates of a broken city she had once called home.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are love <3


End file.
